


Promises

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Trans Katsuki Yuuri, hopelessly gay nikiforov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: Inspired by that one reddit post about an arranged marriage.Viktor  Nikiforov is not happy. Despite coming out nearly weekly, his parents have set him up with a fellow business mogul family’s daughter. Since his parents aren’t listening Viktor goes to the dinner date as his last hope to convince the heir to cut off the arrangement. Only… Yuuri Katsuki isn’t a daughter, regardless of what Viktor’s parents think. Suddenly cutting off the arrangement doesn’t seem like the best choice.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti
Comments: 42
Kudos: 280
Collections: maazeesfavs





	1. The Date

“You look like you’re attending your own funeral, mon cheri.” Chris said over Facetime, Viktor’s phone propped up on his dresser as he smoothed out his hair for the fourth time.

“I’m tired of fighting it, you know?” Viktor sighed, smoothing down the black pinstripe button down his parents requested he wore to the dinner. They had made the reservation only for Viktor and the Katsuki’s daughter so there ‘would be less pressure’, but in their usual out-of-touch-ways, they had chosen a 5 star restaurant. Viktor dreamed that he someday would be able to meet someone cute at a coffee shop or something less…extravagant. But that wasn’t the Nikiforov way, and until Viktor found his own job and home, he was under the hold of his parentage.

“You should just leave and make it on your own,” Chris hummed. Viktor had most recently reminded his parents of his homosexual alignment monday, at two pm, when asked his opinion about the new model for his mother’s fashion line.  
Viktor bit his lip. He was nearing the end of his rope, yes… but his parents had never reacted badly to their only son being gay. They only seemed to… forget. Constantly.

“One more quarter and I’ll have my law degree.” Viktor sighed, blending the concealer under his left eye. “It’s just dinner. I’ll say we weren’t compatible. That she insulted merino wool, or something.

Chris clicked his tongue. “Call me after, alright?”  
Viktor forced a smile. “Alright.”

~  
Viktor didn’t dare sit and wait on the plush chair in the foyer of the restaurant, lest his wrinkle his trousers. He waited, eyeing every long-haired beauty that passed through the stained-glass doors. He twisted his cuff-links nervously, checking the time on his timex watch he got for his birthday every thirty seconds.

He looked up again, his pulse racing when a slim, nervous-looking young man slippped into the doorway. He wore a black button down with a slick waistcoat over it, his hair short and glossy and his brown eyed wide and absolutely entrancing.

Viktor gulped. He was so, so gay.

He quickly pulled out his phone before the man noticed he was staring, his ears perking to listen for footsteps that never faded away.

Someone cleared their throat. “Um...are you Viktor Nikiforov?”  
Viktor’s head snapped up, his phone dropping out of his hand and onto the floor as he met eyes with handsome-waistcoat-guy. Whose hands were shaking uncontrollably even as they were grasped in front of them.

“Y--yes! Yes. That’s me.” Viktor stuttered, smiling, and apologizing when they both bent over to pick up his phone. The man withdrew, his cheeks and ears flushing an adorable pink.

“I--I’m sorry. I’m.. Katsuki Yuuri.” The man turned his beautiful eyes away, staring at his own feet.  
Viktor stared, taking in each dark eyelash, the blush on his face, his perfect eyebrows.

“You’re… Yuuri?” He blinked, the motors in his brain grinding to a halt. The Katsuki’s youngest daughter was right in front of him. His brain flashed to the bar he had visited with Chris the first time he had came out to his parents. Maybe their daughter was just butch?

“I’m sorry for wasting your time, but it’s easier to explain in person.. And it’s just.. A lot has changed since our parent’s last talked.” Yuuri wrung his hands. 

Viktor blinked. “I’m sorry… do you want to clarify over some drinks?”

Yuuri startled, his wide brown eyes snapping back up to Viktor. “Wha? You mean… I thought.. You’d want to cancel dinner.”

“Why would I?” Viktor straightened his back. Yuuri hesitated, his hands twisting in a white-knuckle grip.

“Because.. I’m..a man..” His voice grew quieter, but his back straightened and he bit his lower lip.

A thrill rose up Viktor, settling somewhere near his heart. “Well, I am super gay.”

Yuuri choked, a cute half-snort noise, his face growing even redder.

“Please join me?” Viktor motioned toward the hostess stand and interior of the restaurant. Yuuri nodded, a little stunned, and they were escorted to a private booth in the corner of the dim restaurant. 

Yuuri looked even more gorgeous with his face half-lit with candle-light. Viktor felt his heart stutter when Yuuri pulled a pair of blue-rimmed glasses out of his pocket to read the menu. 

“So...what brings you to Paris?” Viktor watched Yuuri, even though Yuuri studied the menu diligently.

“My parents live here… ever since my mother launched her company overseas.” Yuuri sounded polite, even though he was stating the obvious. 

“Ah, so you speak French?” Viktor smiled.

“No…” Yuuri flushed. “Just Japanese… and English. I go to school in the United States.”

“Oh! I’ve been to New York and L.A.” Viktor brightened. “I’ve heard they have amazing art schools.”

Yuuri sunk lower on his side of the booth. “I...actually live in Detroit… Michigan. It’s… kind of nowhere near LA or New York.” He mumbled.

Viktor panicked-- he was so stupid. So, so stupid. Why hadn’t he done his research on the family?  
Oh, because he didn’t want to. Because he was dreading it right until Yuuri walked up to him.

“Oh… why..?” Viktor was at a loss. “What do you study?”

“I...uh,I’m studying Fine Arts.. but I’m really there to be trained by Celestino Cialdini,” Yuuri continued, saving Viktor’s clueless ass. “He’s an Olympic Champion and five time world champion in mens figure skating… He’s my coach.”

No wonder Yuuri had an amazing butt.

“And you?” Yuuri looked up, and Viktor’s heart fluttered. He still had his glasses, and they added another 500 cute points to his already award-winning face.

“I… I’m about to take my exam to be a business lawyer.”

“And you’re super gay.” Yuuri repeated, a small smile on his face before he realized what he said and choked. “Ah-- I---I’m sorry I--.”

“It’s fine… It’s fine. “ Viktor waved his hand. “It’s a huge relief, actually. I thought my parents were ignoring me.”

Yuuri bit his lip again. “I…I asked my parents to let me handle this. I don’t think they said anything to your parents.”

“That you’re not a woman?” Viktor laughed. “It’s not a big deal. My dad can be pretty forgetful.”

Yuuri shrunk back. “It’s more complicated than that.” He shut his menu, setting it on the table. “I’m still… legally…”

Viktor and Yuuri sat in silence for a moment.

“Oh.” Viktor spoke first. “Ah. I see.”

The water arrived, and Yuuri looked questioningly at Viktor, giving him another out. Instead, Viktor ordered the most expensive red wine on the menu.

“Yuuri…” Viktor set his hands on his table after it was cleared in preparation for the first course. “If you’re not comfortable, please don’t feel obligated to stay. “ Viktor took in a deep breath. “But… do know… you are one of the most entrancing men I have ever laid eyes on… and I’d like to get to know you better.”

Yuuri’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the candle light. He forcefully nodded his head, swallowing thickly before he spoke. “I’d like that.”

~  
Viktor: meet me at Beth’s in 30  
Chris🍑: are you requesting comfort chris or….?  
Viktor: Just come

The wine was a good choice-- the social lubricant helped Yuuri relax over the course of the dinner. Yuuri told him about Detroit and ice skating, and Viktor shared the crazy cases from his court internship. By the time the tira misu arrived, Yuuri was willing to continue the date at a nearby club.

Chris waved when he saw Viktor arrive, Yuuri following closely behind.

“Oh, hi Chris.” Yuuri said, and Viktor immediately stiffened.

“It’s Cute Roommate!” Chris gasped, throwing his arms around Yuuri. He stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “What a small world, cheri!”

“No kidding,” Yuuri smiled. “Phichit’s going to be mad.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure to make it up to him. Come here and take a selfie with me.” Chris wormed his way between Yuuri and Viktor, pressing his cheek to Yuuri’s and holding up his phone.

“I… Care to explain, Chris?” Viktor didn’t smile as the phone camera flashed.

“Ah. This is my internet boyfriend’s cute roommate.” Chris patted Yuuri’s shoulder.

“This is Yuuri Katsuki, my date.” Viktor answered with a lot less humor. Viktor’s doe-like eyes widened considerably. “Oh,” He purred, turning to look at Yuuri. “The plot thickens.”

Yuuri looked uncomfortable, scuffing his toe on the concrete floor. Viktor had unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt since leaving the restaurant, but Yuuri still looked perfect. 

“Well, he has my approval, Viktor.” Chris cleared his throat. “Drinks, anyone?”

~  
🍑it Chulanont: YUURI  
🍑it Chulanont: DONT YOU DARE STEAL MY MAN  
🍑it Chulanont: ALSO CONGRATS!!

🍑it Chulanont: Yuuri?

Yuuri Katsuki: Hi, this is Victor. Do you know where Yuuri is staying?  
🍑it Chulanont: HOLY  
🍑it Chulanont: vIKTOR NIKIFOROV? Also its like 2 am in Paris, you better not be joking  
Yuuri Katsuki: Please. His phone is in Japanese…  
🍑it Chulanont: I’ll call Mari

Viktor worried his bottom lip, looking over at the dozing, half-dressed man propped up in a corner of the stickly vinyl booth. Yuuri’s pants were folded across his lap, his shoes lined up at the edge of the booth while Chris searched for his missing sock.

Viktor had never felt more alive. He’d never danced this much, touched his much-- had this much fun. Yuuri was an amazing dancer, and absolutely beautiful….even now, drooling and smelling like ten shots of tequila. 

🍑it Chulanont: here’s a screenshot of their address. Mari says he has a key in his wallet.

Viktor sighed. Of course he’d be staying with his parents. Viktor would be bringing their song home blackout drunk.

Chris returned, swinging a sock triumphantly in one hand.  
“Come on, cute roomie! Pants go back on!” Chris sang. Yuuri groaned, kicking out his beautiful, shapely legs.

“Viktor, help me will you?” Chris rolled his eyes at the blush on Viktor’s face as the two men wrestled Yuuri back into his pants and tied his shoes on his feet. Yuuri snuggled into Viktor’s lap, resting his cheek on his shoulder. 

“Good luck, babe.” Chris shut the door on the taxi they Viktor had carried Yuuri into. It was a half-hour ride to the Katsuki residence, the majority of the time spent by Yuuri tracing patterns onto Viktor’s knees, eyes wide with blank wonder.

“Can you walk?” Viktor asked when they pulled up the long driveaway. He had carried Yuuri in his arms from the club, but he had had time to sober up.

“I’m not drunk, you’re drunk.” Yuuri slurred, his fingers dancing up the inside of Viktor’s thigh before settling on his knees.

“Okay… I’m going to make sure you make it to the door.” Viktor knew he was going to fall asleep the minute he got to his own bed-- hours of dancing did that to you. Yuuri stumbled as soon as his toes touched the ground, and Viktor swept him up into his arms.

Yuuri smiled mischievously, relaxing into Viktor’s touch. 

“You’re strong… that’s...hot.” Yuuri slurred as Viktor fumbled for the single key with a red ribbon loop tied into it. Viktor chuckled, finally wrangling the door open. 

A small brown puff barked at him, bouncing at his feet. Viktor swallowed back the coo that automatically came from him, setting Yuuri down in the entry way. The miniature poodle bounced all over Yuuri instead, kissing his face and earning a sleepy, happy smile in return.

“Thanks,” a woman, who Viktor presumed to be Mari, appeared at the end of the hall.

“Um.. here’s his phone.” Viktor pulled it out of his pocket, before pausing and opening the phone screen. He typed in his name and number, before setting the blue phone on the coffee table in the entry way. Yuuri had already melted onto the floor, giggling as the puppy lavished him with love.

“Okay. Goodnight.” Mari said flatly, her arms folded.

Viktor looked down, his cheeks burning with a sudden heat.

This was bad. 

He had it bad.


	2. Flowers and a Dinner Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for amazing response to the first chapter! I was trying to avoid starting another WIP-- I have so many and no plans to stop any-- but I love writing this idea. Thank you for your support.
> 
> tw: unintentional misgendering, mild dysphoria and brief vague mention of trans panic crime toward ends of chapter

\---

Viktor: I can’t stop thinking about him, Chris!!  
Viktor: He’s so cute… his smile… the look in his eyes when he talks about skating

Chris🍑: He does have a nice 🍑  
Chris:🍑: just text him!!  
Viktor: I don’t have his number!! I only remembered to give him my contact as I dropped him off in front of his sister  
Viktor: It’s been three days of torture  
Chris🍑: Do you have any other ways of contacting him?  
Viktor: Not outside of your boyfriend… I still have his parent’s address in my Lyft app…  
Chris🍑: My beau says Yuuri is still in Paris

Viktor doesn’t reply to Chris’ last text. In fact, he drops his phone, struck by sudden inspiration.

He spends an hour getting ready-- another hour choosing the perfect outfit. By the time he’s ready, the florist closest to his home is open. He spends another half hour bouncing among blooms and branches while the florist builds a bouquet for him. When it’s done, it’s twice as big as his head and full of baby's breath, a rainbow of roses and stargazer lilies. He doesn’t know what kind of flower is Yuuri’s favorite, so why not try all of them?

Viktor called a Lyft to Yuuri’s home-- or his parent’s at least. It looks different in the daylight, a 5 bedroom mansion with a long winding drive. Viktor twirled the bouquet in his hands as he rings the doorbell, the chime a long and loud bell.

It takes entirely too long for anyone to answer, Viktor’s heart sinking momentarily before leaping into his throat. Yuuri pulls open the front door, out of breath and sweating and the stuff of dreams. He’s wearing black dance tights with a loose, oversized grey tshirt that shows off his delicious collarbone.  
They stare at each other in silence for a moment before Viktor remembers himself, and that he was the one who rang the doorbell.

“Hi,” Viktor smiled awkwardly, and Yuuri’s grip on the door handle tightens. He twists it, the latch moving back and forth before smiling shyly.

“Hi?” Yuuri’s beautiful eyes dart from the bouquet to Viktor’s face.

“These are for you.” Viktor held out the flowers, and Yuuri let go of the door to take them. The sunlight reflected off the flowers and paints Yuuri’s face with color. Viktor falls even more in love.

“Thank you,” Yuuri admired the flowers, closing his eyes and drinking in their scent. “I… I had a great time.. Friday.”

“Me too.” Viktor shifted foot to foot. “You have my number, right?”

Yuuri’s eyes widen, turning from the flowers to Viktor. “Oh...no…?”

Viktor mentally kicked himself in the head. Of course. He had done it when Yuuri was black-out drunk.

“I, uh… put it in your phone. Can I get yours?” Viktor offered his best ‘date me’ smile.

“Invite him in, Yuuri.” A strong female voice called from inside the house. There’s another woman-- with long coffee-colored hair, wearing dance tights just like Yuuri.

“O---of course. Come in. Please.” Yuuri flushed pink up to his ears, and Viktor had to resist the urge to squeal. “Sorry, I… I was just practicing with my ballet teacher…” Yuuri’s shoulders hunch just a little and he pulled at the hem of his shirt. 

“Hiroko! The Nikiforov boy is here!” The woman yells into the house, before turning back with a mischievous smile. “I’m Minako Okukawa. Nice to meet you.” She seems to already know who Viktor is, which is unnerving but not improbable. Viktor is the son of an internationally famous fashion designer, and Yuuri is the son of the world’s most prominent size-inclusive Japanese fashion designer. It would be weird to be involved with either family and not know the other.  
But the smile makes something...off.

“Ah, he is? Welcome! Yuuri, you didn’t tell me you invited him over!” Hiroko’s voice carries through the house.

“I didn’t…” Yuuri muttered under his breath, low enough that Viktor didn't hear. 

Yuuri turned an even deeper shade of red when his mother shuffled into the main hallway. She is wearing one of her designs-- a structured dress with the label lined with upcycled kimono fabric that hugs her curves perfectly. Viktor remembers a similar design in the same spread as one of his mothers. Of course, his mother is the polar opposite of Hiroko-- tall, thin and blonde. Hiroko is shorter than Yuuri, softer looking. She actually looks like a mother, especially wearing an apron and slippers. 

“Come sit and have some tea, Viktor.” Hiroko smiles, and even though Yuuri looks like he is panicking, Viktor just nodded and followed Hiroko further into the house. Plaques and awards line the walls, and Viktor stops at a large oil painting hanging next to the entryway to the dining room.

“Wow.” Viktor stares at the canvas, a soft-looking portrait of a slightly younger Hiroko and Toshiya, surrounded by a canopy of flowers and vines. It’s the most beautiful painting Viktor has seen outside of a museum.

“Yuuri did that for our anniversary.” Hiroko chirped, standing next to Viktor and staring at it along with him. “It’s based on our wedding photo, but Yuuri added the flowers. He won an award at his university for it.”

“It was just a student gallery,” Yuuri stammers. “Everyone in the class showed something…”

Viktor suddenly longs to own something just as beautiful. Maybe a portrait of his own, with Yuuri next to him, surrounded by roses and golden vines.

“It’s beautiful.” Viktor breathes. “You should design some fabric.”

“No way,” Yuuri laughed nervously. “Then it’d be on a runway, and you’d have to show it off to everyone and have to talk about it…”

“But you’re an ice skater, aren’t you?” Viktor tilted his head to the side, confused. Doesn’t he show off at every competition. “You perform, right?”

“That’s different.” Yuuri doesn’t meet Viktor’s eyes, staring at the painting instead. “With skating.. I just tell the story. I don’t have to say why I did a loop here or a double there. Everyone knows there’s a reason. They’re just there for the story. Or the points. I don’t have to explain, I just get to...be.”

Viktor swallowed, hoping his wild heartbeat wasn't noticeable. Or his incredible thirst for the insanely perfect person standing next to him. 

“Anyway.. Tea, right?” Yuuri walks too quickly into the kitchen, pulling open cabinets and searching for cups. Unlike Viktor’s home, all the mugs are elegant but mismatched, a rainbow of colors and china. Viktor spots a poodle mug, next to a Wayne State University cup, though Yuuri only picked out the finer bone china sets.

“I got some more genmaicha, Yuuri.” Hiroko hums happily, setting a kettle to boil. “I’m glad to see you, Viktor. I haven’t seen you since you were… ten, maybe? You were still modeling.”

Yuuri nearly dropped a cup in the process of setting up a tray. Minako’s suspicious smile returned, but the teacher doesn’t say anything.

Half a cup into the tea time, Hiroko pulls out a photo album. Viktor secretly loves it, oohing and aahing and complimenting every ice skating costume of Yuuri’s and cooing at the picture of Mari’s daughter. They go backward in time, to Yuuri's high school graduation, and there is a sudden shift.

Yuuri’s smile, just as sweet, looks a little more hollow. He wears a plaid skirt, his hair just a little longer than it is now. 

Thankfully, it isn’t true for the other photos. There’s a picture of the family at the beach with Yuuri in baggy shorts and a t-shirt with strange english on it. His elementary school entrance picture has him in a little suit that Viktor recognises having a bit of the Katsuki design to it. His middle school graduation photo is absent, but family photos are far from few. Their miniature poodle is in many of them, until they get to baby photos-- toddler Yuuri with his proud big sister, Mari holding up a sheet with their names in proud tall english letters.

“You… didn’t change your name?” Viktor blurts before he can think of it. 

“I did, in Japan… It’s different kanji, but it’s the same reading.” Yuuri ran a finger around the edge of his empty tea cup. “So.. it’s the same name, but I picked different kanji that’s more...masculine.” Yuuri showed a touch of nerve. “I mean, in Japanese, it can be a name for boys or girls.. One kanji made it about flowers, but I changed it.” Yuuri’s cheeks are an adorable pink

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to pry.” Viktor added, feeling his own face grow hot.

“You should know each other if you’re going to be engaged.” Hiroko is just as cheerful. She patted Viktor’s hand comfortingly.

“It’s still on?” Viktor brightened immediately. Yuuri buried his face in his hands, hiding away.

“I--if you agree… I’m okay with it.” Yuuri’s voice was muffled through his hands. “It’s not official or anything.. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to… I just… the other day was… nice.”

Viktor felt like he was floating on air. They make it through another cup of tea, before Minako saves Yuuri by reminding him about his training. Yuuri walked Viktor back to the door, earning them a split second of privacy. They stare at each other, Viktor’s hand moving on it’s own to cup Yuuri’s cheek.

His eyes widen and shimmer as his eyes meet Viktor’s. Viktor floats, leaning down-- a breaths distance away before Yuuri jolts out of reach.

“B-bye! Thanks for the flowers!” Yuuri’s too-loud voice carries from the end of the hallway.

Instead of leaving disappointed, Viktor spends the ride home trying to make sense of it all. Yuuri accepted the marriage proposal, only to run away at Viktor’s touch.  
But his torture doesn’t end for long-- he gets a text from Yuuri’s number-- a simple thank you and picture of his miniature poodle smelling the giant bouqet-- and Viktor stares at it every ten minutes.

“Vitya! Make sure your room is neat, alright? The Katsuki’s are coming for dinner!” Vasilia floats into her son’s room two days later. They have Maria, who cleans their home every day, and the only mess in Viktor’s room is his desk. But that’s not the actual request-- It’s his mothers way of sharing information.

Viktor chokes-- dinner is in an hour. His mother is already dressed for it-- her silver hair pinned in an updo, lips painted red and her outfit from her latest retro collection. She even has heels on, even though Viktor is used to taking shoes off at the door. 

Viktor prioritizes his hair and cologne over his outfit-- he’s wearing jeans that cost more than all of the food that will on the table, and a dark patterned sweater. Not the sexiest outfit, but comfortable. Homey.

Viktor is barely prepared when the front door rings. Vasilia is already there, opening the door with a grand gesture. 

Viktor peered over the bannister, swallowing thickly. Hiroko is dressed up as well, though she wore black flats that don’t take away from her assymetrical dress. Toshiya wore a sports jacket, a five-year-old girl in a sunddress riding on his hip. Mari is wearing one of her mother’s designs, but Yuuri is in slacks and a button-down shirt.

“Hiroko! So good to see you. It’s been so long!” Vasilisa kisses Hiroko’s cheek, before she cooed over Mari.

“Such a gorgeous young woman. So strong. I am so sorry for your loss, love.” She moves on to pinch the child’s cheeks, before dramatically pressing her hand to her heart.

“Yuuri! Darling, I can’t wait to have you as part of the family.” Yuuri is frozen in place when Vasilisa kisses his cheeks. “Come! I have something for you. Vitya, show the Katsuki’s around will you? Make sure they’re comfortable!”

Viktor doesn't have enough time to even open his mouth before Yuuri passes him by, pulled by the elbow by Viktor’s mother into her in-house workroom. They meet eyes, Yuuri’s wide and doe-like, and Viktor kicks himself for not rescuing his fiance from the-force-of-nature he calls his mother.

Viktor leads the family down the halls, showing them the bathroom and the way to the back gardens, before bringing them into the foyer where his mother already has her best french tea set laid out.

“Cookies!” Mari’s daughter wormed her way down from her grandfather’s hip.

“Hello there…. Miss Katsuki.” Viktor forces a smile at the little one.

“My name’s Akari Uematsu.” The little girl said, smoothing out the skirt of her cotton dress. “Yuuri is my.. My...oji.”

“Uncle.” Mari provides. “Akari, how do you ask nicely for something?”

“Cookie, please.” Akari huffed.

“Ah, here you are!” Vasilia opened the door to the foyer. Viktor instantly felt relief, until it’s replaced by conflict. Yuuri followed Vasilisa in, a few steps behind-- his slacks and shirt replaced by a mint-green and white checkered swing dress-- an unreleased design from his mother’s retro collection. His shoes are even replaced with matching flats-- thankfully, as Yuuri’s toes and ankles are purple and grey with bruises.

But worse, is the tightness in the line on Yuuri’s mouth and shoulders.

“Mother...if you have everything taken care of.. I’d like some time with my fiance in the gardens.” Viktor forces his voice to stay light. Yuuri followed him out of the room woodenly, dead quiet until they are halfway down the stone path that lead to the rose garden.

“Yuuri, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t tell her-- or say anything.” Viktor turned when they were safely out of earshot of the house.

“It’s alright.” Yuuri said flatly.

“No, it’s not-- I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. My mom would understand, I just--”

“It’s alright.” Yuuri repeated, staying two steps behind Viktor.

“Okay, she might not understand, but she doesn’t mean it like that. She just… she’s very intense. She listens.. Most of the time. But that’s no reason to make you--”

“It’s o--kay,” Yuuri broke, the word split in two by a sob. Tears spill over his cheeks, but Yuuri stubbornly stares at the ground, turning his back to Viktor.

“It’s not..” Viktor reached out, but faltered, remembering the last time Viktor tried to touch Yuuri.  
He doesn’t know what to do when people cry, especially when it’s incredibly hot ice-skater-dancer boys, forced into fashion by his own overbearing mother.

“It doesn’t fit you..” Viktor mutters instead, and the sniffling stopped-- replaced by stunned silence.

“ Blue is definitely your color..not green. And honestly.. You look like my friend trying drag before he knew how to stuff.”

Yuuri’s gaze was sharp when he turned to look back at Viktor. “You don’t know how to talk to people.” Yuuri’s voice was small, but ended punctuated by a nervous laugh.

“I…”

“I didn’t know how to tell your mother.. She just kept..talking. I was hoping she’d notice.. but ..” Yuuri’s fingers played with the skirt, pulling at it awkwardly.

“Will Mari… Or your mother?” Viktor worried about his bottom lip. Yuuri really didn’t look bad in the dress… but he looked uncomfortable. 

“No…” Yuuri’s mouth took a sad turn. “They all promised not to say anything after Leia Sands ...made the news.”

Viktor’s heart twisted, a sick ache settling in his stomach. He knew the name-- it had been plastered over every news outlet for weeks. Leia had been murdered, and her boyfriend pardoned after claiming temporary insanity after finding out that Leia was transgender. He had attended a memorial at St. Petersburg’s biggest gay bar.

“But...you…”

Yuuri pulled at the skirt again. “I’ve followed you since you started modeling.. You didn’t seem like someone I should worry about.”

Viktor swallowed thickly. He was right--Viktor had spent a good 6 years with waist-length hair, before he grew tired of shallow meetings and articles about his face and not the person behind it.

“I hope you can feel safe with me.” Viktor said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Me too.”


	3. Date Night Deaux

“Come on. Let’s get you back in your clothes.” Viktor cleared his throat after an oddly not-too-bad silence. 

“But-- your mother--” Yuuri stuttered. 

“Will understand. I’ll take care of it. You won’t have to say anything. I promise.” Viktor smiled his best smile. He led Yuuri back into the house-- back to his mother’s workroom. Yuuri’s pants and shirt were in one of his mother’s gilt shopping bags from her pop up boutique, folded with care.

“I really don’t want to offend anyone and ruin this--” Yuuri took his shirt and twisted the fabric in his hands.

“You won’t. You’re marrying me, right? You’ve already got me smitten.”

Yuuri flushed a pretty shade of pink. He turned instead, pulling the dress up off over his head. Viktor meant to look away, but stared instead. Yuuri was slim, his skin smooth and creamy and beginning to be touched. 

“Yuuri--” Viktor stepped forward, touching the red mark just below the hem of his binder. “Is it hurting you?”

Yuuri stopped, his arms in his sleeves and cheeks burning hot. “No--- I mean, it’s fine-- I’m used to it.” Viktor drew back and let Yuuri pull on his shirt. He tried not to look and admire the hem of the shirt and Yuuri’s boxers-- he had to face his family in a few minutes anyway.

“It looks… tight.”

“It’s okay. I’m… I’m actually here… to get top surgery before the next season starts.” Yuuri swallowed. 

“Oh. That’s...scary. It’s good you’ll be next to your family.” Viktor kept his eyes trained on the back of Yuuri’s neck.

“It’s just because its where my mom’s company insurance covers… but yeah. I guess.” Yuuri buttoned his pants, his hair ruffled from pulling on the shirt.

“When is it? So I can send flowers.. Balloons…” Viktor kicked himself internally. Did people do that? He’d never been in the hospital for surgery… he’d never had anything worse than a cold.

Yuuri laughed, his cheeks pink again. “It’s okay, really.”

“I want to.” Viktor blinked. Yuuri seemed pretty comfortable with him, in that moment at least, and he felt the need to spill his heart out too. “I really like you. I want to court you…”

“Court?” Yuuri wrinkled his nose.

“Uh-- I just-- I’ve always loved romance novels-- science fiction too, but romance is so-- powerful-- it’s like people are destined to be together.”

“Oh… is court… dating?” Yuuri’s confused expression faded, and the sick feeling in Viktor’s stomach bubbled into nervous laughter. 

“Yes… yes it is. With the intent of marriage. I was humoring my parents at first… but I really think..” Viktor swallowed. “That even if its an arranged marriage, we could be in love with each other.”

Yuuri’s mouth quirked up into a smile. He stepped forward tilting his head upward-- looking up as if they were about to kiss. But neither of them moved, just watching each other before Yuuri took two quick steps back. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

~

Vasilisa could be dense, but at least she was wise enough not to argue the wardrobe change when her son and future son-in-law joined them in the dining room. The fine china was stacked on gold chargers, and their glasses had already been filled with wine. Hiroko spooned out a plateful of truffle salad onto each of their empty plates as they sat down. Yuuri drank a third of the glass in one sip, their thighs brushing underneath the table.

“Your mother was sharing about your qualification for the Grand Prix series, Yuuri.” Vasilia smiled, the perfect image of a host. Yuuri paled, stabbing at his salad a little strongly.

“Mmm. Yeah. I just...got some good scores.” Yuuri murmured shyly.

“Maman, Yuuri also paints. I saw a portrait he did at the Katsuki’s, and it was amazing--” Viktor couldn’t help but smile, even as Yuuri slouched and sunk into his chair.

“I’d love to see it.” Vasilisa smiled. Hiroko didn’t seem concerned-- or surprised at her sons mannerisms. In fact, she seemed to send a comforting gaze toward their end of the table. 

“Yuuri’s very private about his arts. He likes doing it, but not showing it. He actually designed the fabric in my 2012 collection, but he refused to take credit for it.”

Yuuri smiled his chin tucked down as he poked at his food more than ate it.

“Ah, Vitya is the opposite. He’s all about the show. Every magazine spread we have framed. You can tell-- his birthday present he wanted a pink convertible. Pink!”

The table was quiet, Yuuri’s eyes flickering up from his plate.

“It’s just a bit flamboyant, you know? I love my son no matter what, but I was relieved when I heard that he agreed to marry your daughter.” Vasilia rambled on.

Yuuri was dead silent, along with the rest of his table. 

In the end, it was little Akari who spoke the truth.

“Yuur-jijii is a boy.” She said, reaching over her mother to steal a slice of meat off the top of her salad. “My mama said she never marry, so I don’t know who is daughter.”

Vasilia’s eyes moved from Akari to Viktor, then Yuuri. 

Viktor looked to Yuuri, who seemed to shrink in his chair.

“Yuuri skates in mens singles for Japan.” Hiroko spoke up. “I have never seen him happier… I hope that he gets happiness from this family too.” She smiled politely, as if daring Vasilisa to challenge it.

“I… hope so too.” Vasilisa looked pale. They kept the rest of the dinner conversation light. Viktor watched Yuuri nibble at pelmeni and their mothers talk in depth about their respective jobs in fashion. Yuuri’s father played with little Akari, and Yuuri was awkwardly quiet. He passed his plate of strawberry cheesecake to his niece when it came time for dessert.

“Yuuri-- have a bite of mine? It’s my favorite. I understand if it’s not on your meal plan, but it’s the best cake in france.” Viktor cleared his throat and held out his fork. Yuuri stared, before gently taking the bite off of Viktor’s fork. He chewed slowly, and Viktor watched the curve of his neck when he swallowed.

“He’s actually just lactose intolerant.” Mari murmured. It wasn’t loud-- Vasilisa didn’t hear-- but Viktor sure did. Panic rose and boiled in his chest. But Yuuri just licked his lips. “It’s good.” Mari’s comment had escaped his ears, and it somehow made it worse. Yuuri was so kind… so understanding… and Viktor was just as bad as his mother. Not even the dessert wine took the edge off of that feeling.

“Yuuri--” Viktor finally spoke out when they stood on the front drive and were saying their goodbyes. It was getting dark, but Akari was jazzed by the two helpings of cheesecake. She ran between her mother and uncle, shrieking in delight when Yuuri spun her around gracefully in his arms. Everything about him screamed dancer… and it made Viktor feel extremely smitten.  
“Can I make up for tonight with a better date?”

Yuuri stared, his kind brown eyes wide and lost. “You don’t have to make up for tonight.”

“Please?”

~

Viktor nearly crushed the coffee cup in his hands as he waited in front of Cineaqua-- Paris’ top-rated aquarium and one of the top listed date spots on Yelp. His nerves were getting to him--- which was why he had arrived an hour earlier than the planned time. Thankfully, Yuuri was early too. Viktor’s heart squeezed-- Viktor had said to dress comfortable, and for Yuuri that meant a baggy hoodie with ‘Detroit’ across the front in worn letters and jeans that were rolled up over bare ankles. He waved the second he realized Viktor was staring, jogging a little to catch up to Viktor’s spot on the pavement.

“Hi,” Viktor breathed, smiling stupidly. He was wearing a vneck shirt and jeans that cost a good 400 euro, but were worth every cent because of how his ass looked in them. Chris had said so.

“Hi,” Yuuri smiled, and Viktor suddenly felt weak-kneed. 

“I uh.. I got you a vanilla soy latte,” He held out the paper cup like a love letter in a girly anime. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Um.. wow… Thank you.” Yuuri blushed and took the cup. 

“I should have asked what you liked-- but I had some time to burn--” Viktor rambled as Yuuri sipped at the latte.

“It’s good.” Yuuri said flatly, rubbing his thumb around the rim of the lid. “All caffeine is good caffeine.”

“Viktor thought about all the Italian espresso he had during photoshoots, the cafe back home in Russia that had a whole mad-scientist like set up.

“Phichit and I usually go to dunkin donuts if we need coffee. Or 7-11 if its finals week.” Yuuri continued fidgeting.

Viktor felt a little sick-- not because the mention of 7-11--- Viktor had seen the hot-dog rollers in New York-- but because Yuuri was so...easy to please… down to earth… and how on earth would a boy who drinks dunkin donuts fall in love with someone like him? Viktor had only set foot in the 7-11 on a dare, and nothing under $4 a bottle passed his lips during his entire trip to America. Yuuri was going to think he was a rich snob and leave him for someone with less money and more… depth?

Viktor tried his best not to panic too much or stare, or bring out his phone to find out the closest Dunkin Donuts store and research how to develop a taste for it. They walked through the ticket gates together. Viktor was glad that he had his own coffee-- it kept him distracted from the strange want to reach out and hold Yuuri’s hand.  
They followed the crowd, standing at the largest tank. Yuuri looked beautiful cast in blue, his eyes bright.

“Look-- It’s a-- uh-- sea pancake.” Yuuri pointed into the tank. Yuuri couldn’t read the french placards, so they spent most of the time looking at the fish.

“A manta ray!” Viktor sang, his smile growing as he finally found something he could talk about. “It’s my favorite sea animal..” He pulled out his phone to snap a photo. 

They made it into the jellyfish tunnel, Yuuri a few steps ahead before Viktor realized that Yuuri hadn’t taken a single photo. Viktor had about 100 on his camera roll already-- 101 with a sneaky shot of Yuuri staring upward at the jellyfish above his head in the purple light of the deep-sea section.

“Yuuri… can we… take a selfie?” Viktor felt nervous again, but Yuuri simply nodded. The brush of his shoulder against Viktor’s front felt electric-- and oddly, for someone who hadn’t taken a single photo, Yuuri seemed to be a natural at taking selfies. Viktor took maybe 40 photos, his finger stuck on the trigger and his cheeks warm just at the sensation of Yuuri so casually pressed against him. He spent the rest of the day floating, thinking of the sensation and barely realizing where he was.

“Look.” Yuuri snapped him out of reverie in the gift shop as he wiggled a fuzzy manta ray plush in front of Viktor. 

Viktor squealed before he could catch himself. “He’s so cute!” Viktor cooed, a little relieved when Yuuri laughed.

“I’ll get him for you.” Yuuri said simply. “I’ve never seen anyone so happy to see a … uh, man?”

“But--Yuuri---” Viktor pressed a hand to his heart. “You don’t have to.”

But Yuuri turned toward the registry, fuzzy manta ray in hand.

“Yuuri-- whats your favorite animal?” Viktor ran after him, dodging a few kids playing with light up bouncy balls.

Yuuri shrugged. “Sharks, I guess.”

“Any shark?” Viktor eyed the pile of stuffies. The aquarium was famous for having over 40 sharks. Couldn’t Yuuri make this easier on him?

“Whale shark?” Yuuri carefully counted out cash, flinching when Viktor nearly punched him with the head of a whale shark plush.

“This, please!” Viktor asked the cashier in french, his heart still fluttering when Yuuri handed him the plastic bag with his ‘sea pancake’.

“You didn’t have to… thanks.” Yuuri smiled, holding his own bag in turn. “It’’s a good memory. “

“Thank you, Yuuri. I’ll definitely protect this from Makkachin.”

“Makkachin?” Yuuri’s nose wrinkled in the cute way it did when he was confused.

“Makka… my poodle. She was actually out in Belgium for a photoshoot when you visited--”

“Your dog is a model too?” Yuuri snorted, before he turned pink and hid his face behind his hands, horrified.

Viktor laughed. “Yes. The best model.”


End file.
